


all’s well that ends well, but all is well that ends

by stardustandseas



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Best Friends, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Light Angst, Tomb of Annihilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandseas/pseuds/stardustandseas
Summary: “and they were tombmates”“oh my god, they were tombmates”
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character
Kudos: 5





	1. still there are darkened places

**Author's Note:**

> we finally made it into the tomb of annihilation and my divination wizard and her eldritch knight best friend are having a Bad Time (spoilers for some functions of the tomb/things that happen in it!!)
> 
> trying to get back into writing by doing character studies + “missing scenes” from dnd sessions!! i love my characters but i also love angst so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Nightfall. At least, Izora assumed it was dark outside, at 9 in the evening. The Tomb was always dark, the shadows crawling with creatures and curses and a pervasive ache of hateful impossible magic. When you could see, it was almost worse. She crossed the radius of the magical hut, stepping over their sleeping cleric Brandy in the process, and sat crosslegged next to her watch partner. Her gaze wandered over the open sarcophagus and across the empty room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt nervous around Rho, until now. 

He shifted next to her, clearing his throat. “I can’t help but feel like you have some questions,” he drawled, taking the same tone he used to get out of trouble at school. Normally she would find it funny, that he thought he had done something wrong. Normally, that wouldn’t be true.

“Well.” Izzy stared at her hands, thumb rubbing against her first spell ring. She had stored Detect Good and Evil in there, she remembered, and stopped abruptly. “A few hours ago, you were possessed by a wicked trickster god. And still are. And seem to be pretty alright with it, or at least enough to not stop me from wanting to invite a god into my head myself.” And when was the last time Rho hadn’t cared what she did? When had he ever ignored her walking straight into danger? In both the remembered past and the possible futures, she had never seen it happen. “I have a lot of questions, but I don’t - I don’t know that you’d answer them.” She could sense Rho grimacing, hear scales rustle as he flexed his hands.

“You’re my best friend, Izzy,” he tried, and she closed her eyes briefly. “I get this is weird, but you gotta trust me. I really think this’ll help us kill Acererak.”

“We can’t kill him,” she said with a flat edge, still not looking up. Terrified that she would look over and see someone else wearing her dragonborn’s face. “We all decided that before we even got in the tomb. We’re not strong enough to do anything but destroy the soulmonger and hope to leave before the tomb crumbles around us.”

“You don’t understand,” Rho insisted with a familiar strain in his voice lowering the pitch even more, shifting to face her. “We’re already here, it makes more sense to cut the problem off at the root. And you’re not strong enough, maybe. I told you already, I feel… Wongo will help me kill him. We hate him, we’re not letting him get away with this.”

Izzy frowned, forgetting her not looking policy long enough to turn and poke at Rho’s armorclad chest. “Even with a god inside you and the rest of us with you, you’re not strong enough to kill a lich. Not without dying yourself.”

Rho’s eyes caught the light in an entirely unfamiliar way. “Someone in the party would die, Izora. I’d make sure it wasn’t me.” 

She froze, and a small ancient part of her brain whispered to not move, not breathe, maybe that thing won’t see you. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that,” she said instead, praying to gods she wasn’t sure she believed in that her voice sounded certain instead of horrified. Terrified. 

He stared at her for a moment longer, torchlight casting long shadows over their camp, then his face crumpled. “Shit, no, Izzy, I’m sorry, I - ”

She had always cried easily, but had never hated it as much as she did now. She furiously swiped at the stray tear trailing down her face and spat out, “I told you this was a - a _fucking_ bad idea. It’s only been a few hours and you’re already acting different! Brandy and I can get that thing out of you if you’d let us, just. Please.” Don’t make me do this alone. 

Rho frowned but didn’t say anything, just reached forward to gingerly fold her into a hug - the kind that made the rest of the world go away for a minute. She let him at first, because she wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening. Pretend that they were back home at school and Izzy had just had another nightmare, or Rho had just gotten news about his family. But then she sighed and squirmed her way free so she could glare at him, blinking back more saltwater. 

“You can’t just ignore this and wait for it to go away. I’m not going to forget about it.” How could she forget? Something this significant had happened to her best friend, and she had never seen it coming. Not in the bones, not in a vision, not in her dreams. 

“I know you won’t,” he said with a shrug. “But. I think I need to have Wongo with me. I know you don’t like it, but I think it helps give us a shot. Whether we face the soulmonger or the lich.” 

Izzy squinted at him. “I don’t like this,” she said, even though there was no way Rho hadn’t figured that out by now. Even though he might not care anymore. 

“I know,” he repeated, a slight grin tugging his lips up. “Things’ll be okay, Izzy. It’s - it’s weird, and I’m not much of a fan either, but if this has to happen to free all these souls? Then it’s gotta happen.”

Izzy had liked it a lot better when she was the only self sacrificing person in this friendship. 


	2. behind my eyelids are islands of violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gods could have picked differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is in fact an au of a missing scene of a dnd campaign. this is out of my control at this point

The light flickered over the room in front of her as Izora sat against the wall, keeping the first watch. The thing that lived inside her now told her it wasn’t strictly necessary, there weren’t many monsters on this level. And besides, he wouldn’t let his host be hurt. She didn’t need the others. She was strong enough on her own, they would hunt down the lich that had trapped them in this place and destroy him, rip his flesh from his bones, feel the meat grind through the fangs they would grow - she squeezed her eyes shut and dug her nails into her palm. She hated having Wongo inside her with these thoughts, but there was a part of her that reveled in the chaos. She couldn’t tell if that part had been there before the god. _I’ll show you what we can do, we will be great and terrible and you will choose your own destiny instead of fate’s_ , he crooned to her, and Rho crouched next to her before she could decide if she would answer. 

“So,” he started, looking at her like he had when they first met in school, like he didn’t know what to do with her. “How, uh. How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Izzy answered dully, a subtle pressure starting to build at the base of her skull. Wongo didn’t like that Rho was stronger than them. _Wishing you’d picked a better host?_ she thought absently, but was barely surprised when she received an answer in the form of an image, roaring Fireballs and melting bodies pushed into her head. _You are stronger than them all, and we will have them kneel before us._ Shouldn’t have asked. 

“Fine, huh. Same kinda fine as after a vision?” Rho fully sat down next to her, not quite touching her but close enough for her to lean her head on his shoulder if she liked. She abruptly hated him for knowing her that well, a vicious flare of incoherent rage at the words and kindness that left as quickly as it had came. 

“Close,” she admitted, leaning against the stone wall of the tomb instead. “It’s hard to describe. He has a lot of opinions. I keep… feeling things, and thinking things, and even when I know they’re from him it doesn’t seem to matter.” She stared blankly ahead, thinking about the way the red smoke had billowed out of the sarcophagus, coiled up her legs and into her mouth. The other gods hadn’t done that to Logane when they crept into his mind. Wongo just liked scaring people. “I hate him,” she said suddenly, pushing the words between her teeth, “and he enjoys that. It makes him happy.” 

“Hells, Izzy.” Rho shook his head, a familiar furrow appearing between his brows. “I don’t like this. We can get him out of you, Brandy said she has a spell that might work.” He drummed his fingers on his leg, a nervous habit he had picked up in an evocation class their second year of school. 

Izzy shook her head right back, even before Wongo hissed inarticulately at the idea. “No. I hate him, but he does want to help. Well. He wants to get rid of Acererak, and we need all the help we can get.” 

He frowned at her. “We need to get rid of the lich, sure, I just don’t think this is good for you. They can pick who they possess, right? You were the furthest away from the coffin, so they get some kinda choice.” He shuffled to face her, earnest. “What if I took him instead?”

Familiar irritation bubbled up at Rho’s overprotectiveness, but it was quickly eclipsed by a consuming wrath, burning up her throat. Distantly, almost as if through warped glass, she could feel herself baring her teeth at her best friend. “You just want the power,” a voice said with her mouth, shaping the words in an unfamiliar gutteral accent, “you can’t stand the idea of a mere _human_ being stronger than you, what will your clan think? You can’t separate us, Rhomendon, neither of us cares for you enough for that!” She realized she was beginning to shout before she realized what exactly had just happened. 

Rho’s scales rippled as he took in a deep shuddering breath. It was the same way he had reacted when he was stabbed earlier in the day. “You don’t mean that, Izzy,” he said calmly. Quietly.

“Oh gods - ” She almost moved away before thinking better of it and leaning back in, resulting in a strange shivering motion. “I don’t, I didn’t - Rho. I’m so sorry.” She felt familiar tears prickling at her sight, recognized the tightness in her throat, but swallowed it back down. She wasn’t the one who was hurt here. In the back of her head, she felt more than heard the sensation of delighted, mocking laughter. 

“You have to know I don’t mean that. I - you’re my best friend. I don’t care about your clan, they’re terrible and they don’t appreciate you or the things you’re actually good at, I kind of hate them, and this is a bad apology, I’m sorry for that too,” the words spilled out desperately. She couldn’t look at him. “You’re my best friend,” she repeated in a whisper. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Rho sighed next to her, and before she could look up from the cracked stone floor she was pulled to the side in a hug. They sat for a moment, Izzy doing her best to burrow into Rho’s side, before he said, “I told you I didn’t like this.”

She choked out a laugh that they both pretended didn’t turn into a sob. “I know. But I can’t get rid of him. And I can’t let you take him either.” 

“I figured you’d say that.” Rho gently jostled her. “You gotta get rid of that martyr instinct sometime, y’know that?” 

“...Yeah.” Absently, Izzy registered that she was quickly running out of time to finally tell Rho about the vision that had driven her to the island, to the tomb, to her entire life as a wizard. That had driven her almost mad. “I know.”


End file.
